Mona tries to say something,—anything that will be kind and sympathetic,—but words fail her. Her lips part, but no sound escapes them. The terrible reality of the moment terrifies and overcomes her.
golden-jackpot-lottery-result, "Oh, dear, no," says Mona, with an emphatic shake of her lovely head. "She hadn't the least little bit of wit in her composition. She was as solemn as an Eng——I mean a Spaniard (they are all solemn, are they not?), and never made a joke in her life, but she was irresistibly comic all the same." Then suddenly, "What a very pretty little woman that is over there, and what a lovely dress!"
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golden-jackpot-lottery-result At the farthest end of the room, near a window, lying back in an arm-chair, lies Mona, sound asleep..
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